I have been many things while on the World Race. Including, but not limited to, a cement worker, a chef, a seamstress, an animal wrangler, a teacher, a construction worker, art gallery personnel, babysitter, etc. For the most part these rolls and more were at least known as a possibility. What I didn't expect was to spend a month at as a tree. However, it was evident from my first day at 42 Houses village that a tree is exactly what these kids saw us as.
In the flash of a lightning bolt I went from being a free standing independent person to a child's play thing with 3 or 4 Cambodian children attached. I laughed as they scurried up my arms and back while I just stood still. For the first time in my life I had sympathy for trees. I however wasn't going to be conquered easily. In my less than lightning quick reflexes I maneuvered away from the crazy pack. Had you been there that day you might have heard statements like "Bet ya never tried to climb a ninja tree before! Hi-yah!" and things like "We trees don't give up easily." Of course they had no idea what I was rambling on about but that made little difference. We all laughed anyway.
We have been back many times since that first day. We go to play, take food/snacks, give baths, etc. three times a week. Then I go every other day and do preschool in the afternoon. Preschool usually consists of finding creative ways to teach 123s and ABCs while one or more of the children hurls themselves off the table they are supposed to be sitting on and attaches to my back. Seems a tree's work is never done. Some days I grow tired of having three children on each arm, or having my hair pulled once again by someone trying to make their way to my shoulders. But it is always balanced by the smiles on their faces as I pick them up and swing them around into a tickle hug. Or by their laughter as they sit on my hip and we do the Waltz (or at least my version of it) around the field.
Unfortunately, not all in being a tree is sunshine and laughter. We see firsthand the hurt and lack of the children that we play with. I hate the feeling of being powerless to do anything long term for them.Other times my mind wanders to the paralyzed woman living in the village who only gets fed when her neighbors have extra food or one of our contacts feeds her. Which is maybe a few times a week… I scold myself while grumbling in my head about washing my clothes for the third time because they seem to always smell bad,and think of the many children in the village who run naked simply because they don't have clothes.
There are two choices when seeing the bleak and seemingly hopeless situations. The first is easy and of no use to anyone. Give in to the sadness, agree with the darkness that there is no light and "check out" emotionally. The second is harder and makes all the difference. Press in, love well, and pray and believe with everything that is within you. I wish I could say I ALWAYS make the second choice. Simply put…I don't….but I want to.
With that in mind I have picked up a new habit on our play days. If I can break away from my tree duties I take one child in my arms and we walk around for a little bit. As I hold them I pray for them, their families, their futures. I pray that they come to know the living God who cares so much for them and pray that God provide what they need. I am reminded every time that God cares for them more than I could even think. From time to time a tear will slip down my cheek and I can see in their little faces that they are confused by me…which really isn't anything new. So I laugh and give them a great big kiss and swing them around upside down and resume my tree duties.
. As we go into this last week here, before we move on to Kigali, Rwanda, my heart already hurts with the thought of leaving this place, these people. After 6 months you would think that I would have grown accustomed to the cycle of loving then leaving, but it never gets any easier. Maybe that's for the best, if it doesn't hurt it probably means I didn't love enough. I must say, I never imagined that life as a tree would grow my heart like it has.
